Lobotomy
by BondiStBlues
Summary: A white light and a feminine touch. Surely it can't be that simple to commit the perfect crime; however Scott McCall knows the town of Beacon Hills all too well. When it comes to murder; anythings possible. After being expelled from her high school Scott McCall's younger step-sister Eli arrives in Beacon Hills oblivious to the mysterious murders all over California.
1. A Prologue to Convince You Aliens Exist

**_A/N:_**  
**_Hey readers, I've put together a playlist of songs I listened to during the writing process of Lobotomy. I recommend listening while reading along so copy and paste the link below into your browser to listen. _**

SPOTIFY LINK: user/cbeacham97/playlist/4TMM5id9KB0lENbMUm0c6N?si=Ag_SjzpqSXyIPgQCXePTkg

Chapter 1: A Prologue to Convince You Aliens Exist 

The bright white light had Jerry and Angus Zucker startled as they believed they were the only ones on the farm for the weekend. The young men made their way out of bed in a drunken haste, Jerry reaching for his shotgun while Angus seized his baseball bat. The local farm hands had dealt with their fair share of vandals and hoons over the past few years, and they knew just how to scare them away. The light bled through the windows, casting blurred shadows and silhouettes all over the farm house as the boys crept through the kitchen, hoping to catch some young troublemakers in the act.

Angus felt a shiver from his grubby fingertip that ran all the way up to the back of his neck, tickling the locks of hair that were usually intertwined in a rats-tale braid. The shiver caused him to fumble with the bat, making him suddenly nervous about the intruder. "Jerry," Angus whispered, "Jerry something about this doesn't feel right man, maybe we should just call 911."

"Shut up 'Gus!" Jerry hissed through gritted teeth as he flattened himself against the wall between the kitchen window and the front door.

"I'm serious dude I think we should leave this to the cops," Angus wiped the sweat from his brow, knees shaking as he crouched behind the countertop. Jerry merely rolled his eyes at Angus in frustration.

Angus was always the one bailing on the boys when the going got tough, he always stood back and watched the rest of the workers while he looked on, usually with a cold drink or snack in hand; 'supervising' of course. Angus was actually the farm owner's only grandson, however despite the boys sharing the same name they were only related by wedlock. The step-cousins couldn't be more opposite of one another. Jerry was hard working and bold, while Angus could only be described as a weedy sod of a boy. The taller boy was not going to let Angus wimp out on him this time, there was no room in a workplace for disloyalty and weakness.

"Angus get a grip and come help me get a look at where the vandals are," Jerry motioned for Angus to edge closer to the window so he could aid Jerry with lining up a shot with his gun.

The young men both peered through the rustic window, opposite of the farmhouse was a large maintenance shed for the tractors, and beside the shed was several figures. The figures looked like women, they were slim and tall, moving in an elegant manor, it was stereotypically feminine, which was stereotypically unusual for the thieves and vandals who regularly appeared on the weekends. Jerry aimed his shotgun for the shed, if he shot the shed it would usually scare off any intruders from the farm. The tall young man seized his chance and too a shot for the shed. He broke the glass in the window and the bullet shot through the farm shed.

"Jerry what are you doing!" Angus shrieked as Jerry admired his handiwork through the newly made hole in the window pane.

"Mate if we scare them off we can go back to bed and not have to get the police involved at all. The last thing I want is Old Man Zucker coming back from his vacation early because we can't scare off a few scrappy kids." Jerry was fed up with Angus's inadequacy, if he would stop chickening out at every challenging moment and man up he might have actually been left the farm in his grandfather's inheritance, instead it said to be going to Old Man Zucker's great granddaughter who's only 6 months old. Angus mumbled something inaudible before shrinking back into his crouched position against the counter top.

The first shot didn't hinder the female figures a bit, but it did grab their attention. The slim figures made their elegant way towards the farm house. The alienated disposition in which they were moving (like the visual reenactment of a broken record stuck on repeat) was creeping Jerry out a little too much, enough to beg for his step-cousin to help.

"Gus please come have a look at this, shit, they're getting closer, ANGUS!" it was now Jerry's turn to shriek, and his step cousin snapped to attention accordingly.

"Who do you think they are?" Angus whispered as he rushed to Jerry's side against the wall.

"I don't know, I've never seen anything move like that, I don't think they're human," Jerry's voice was barely a murmur, his lips almost frozen in place, a pit growing bigger and bigger in his stomach the closer the figures came. Impulsively Jerry fired another shot, acting on pure adrenaline. The taller cousin immediately regretted his actions when a bloodcurdling shriek emitted from the figure he shot. Suddenly the females began chanting in unison. It was almost mellifluous lullaby, only more hostile, almost as if it was the song of the devil, a song of death. The chanting females were now on the porch, and Jerry lined up another shot from the window, fearing for his life, only the gun has taken a little too long to reload and before he could take his shot the females had burst the door open with a fierce glowing white light, as if Darth Vader had used to force, and if the force looked like white fairy dust.

The chanting became piercing, causing all the glass in the farm house to explode. The young men screamed in fear as their eardrums burst from the noise. Jerry scrambled to the back of the room, aiming the barrel of the shot gun directly at the head of the chanting females, blood rolling from his ears and down the sides of his neck. The white light became blinding, and the chanting literally deafening. Angus, who had resumed his place cowering behind the kitchen counter could see nothing but whiteness, as if this was the place he entered before he dies, like in the movies when the character dying walks into the light. Mustering up all the courage his body could hold he threw himself upright, his pants stained from urinating in fear and his ears bleeding, he lunged forward for his cousin's gun that had been kicked to his side of the room. All the courage he gathered; the only time in his life he actually did anything brave and redeeming, had all gone to waste. The light consumed him too, he was too late. His body was flung to the back of the room with his cousin, limp and lifeless.


	2. Round Up the Calvary

**_A/N:_**  
**_Hey readers, I've put together a playlist of songs I listened to during the writing process of Lobotomy. I recommend listening while reading along so copy and paste the link below into your browser to listen._**

SPOTIFY LINK: user/cbeacham97/playlist/4TMM5id9KB0lENbMUm0c6N?si=Ag_SjzpqSXyIPgQCXePTkg

Chapter 2: Round Up the Cavalry

Scott's POV

It was another Monday in Beacon Hills, another rushed motorbike ride to work as I was late again. The breeze flowed through my long shaggy hair as I stayed close to the handlebars to keep my center of gravity low. Although I worked on the police force I still modified my bike to go faster than legally possibly. I'd fitted a type of hybrid Nitro Oxide to make the bike go even faster than what the turbo would allow. If anyone caught me with the modifications, I'd be sure thrown off the police force. There was a new boss in town since Sheriff Stilinski stepped down from his position. Stilinski was still in the Beacon Hills police department, but to look after his heart and enjoy his fifties he had decided to step down and degrade to just a deputy. Winton Turner was the new Sheriff in town, and he hated the supernatural creatures with a passion. It was common knowledge by now that I was an alpha werewolf, however the town was split in half with people who wanted me detained and people who thought I was the town hero. I couldn't win, all I could do was advance in my career and keep out of any supernatural trouble.

"McCall!" Sheriff Turner shouted when I entered the office, a tray of coffees in hand for those who had messaged me their orders at five in the morning. "Nice for you to drop by, don't tell me the traffic held you up again, there should be no excuses since you ride a motorcycle." I tried my best to grin through Turner's snarky quip.

"Sorry Sheriff Turner," I mumbled while placing the coffee tray on the table while the other officers like vultures eyed out their orders and began snatching them before I could move out of the way.

"If you're late again it will cost you a deduction from your weekly bonus," The new Sheriff continued, while the other officers were busy with their coffees and bagels. I nodded that I understood the consequences of being 'late'. Technically I wasn't late. My shift began at seven A.M. however it was expected that every officer would arrive at the station ready to begin their day at six-thirty A.M. and I had arrived at six forty-five. It made my blood boil that Sheriff turner was prejudice towards me for things I couldn't control, like being bitten by a werewolf when I was sixteen. He would publicly shame and humiliate me and I was expected to take the nonsense like a chip on my shoulder. If I retaliated than it would not only result in indefinite termination of my employment but also add to the mass community prejudice against my kind.

Already in the early hours of the work day the journalists and media crew swarmed in alarming numbers outside the station. The fact they were attempting to interview every officer that entered the building said that something had happened. It hadn't event occurred to me until now that something serious had gone down over the weekend, and that maybe was the reason my boss was so pissed off at my disorderly fashion. After everyone was caffeinated the morning meeting began to take its course. Sheriff Turner rarely ever executed the meetings, it was always Dylan Connolly, his 'trusty sidekick' (who had also been promoted from the city in the form of overly large pay checks) to assist Turner wherever necessary. Connolly lead the meeting while everyone listened intently, hands either on hips or scratching chins at the latest tragedy of the weekend.

"I know how hard this must be on a lot of you, the Zucker family have been a part of this town for longer than all of us have been alive. The loss has definitely sent shockwaves through the whole community of Beacon Hills, and especially the second and third generation families."

"What would you know about community city boy!" One of the officers who had been at the station longer than Stilinski piped up. The sudden outburst had been something on the minds of many of the older local officers at the station. They didn't like the idea of two young men from the city coming in and taking charge of the station. Despite the fact that technically Sheriff Stilinski retired from his position, it's no secret that the higher division in the city's police department wanted him gone, it saved them a lot of hassle that Stilinski stepped down quietly.

"We'll have none of that in my station!" Sheriff Turner raised his voice as he stepped forward into the group, "If I hear any of you talking out of line again than consider your position at the Beacon Hills Police Department temporary. You've been warned." And with the threat fresh in everyone's minds the meeting was adjourned.

It was true, the new Sheriff was an ass, but I had to do my best to keep my head down and just do my job. Being a cop wasn't necessarily something I liked doing, but I was good at it. Maybe if my boss wasn't such an asshat I'd be recognized for all the good I've done, none-the-less I found comfort in knowing I was good at something other than being a werewolf, and so I did what I was told, I got paid a decent wage and was able to live my life as a normal person in the Beacon Hills community. It was unfortunate that the universe seemed to have other plans.

My partner Yeo and I pulled up at the scene of our new investigation. The farm was famous in Beacon Hills. My childhood was filled with memories of the Zucker's farm from way back in elementary school. Stiles and I would spend our summers with Joshua Zucker, he was our age and was another grandson of Old Man Zucker. We would play on the farm with Josh and his cousins Jerry and Gus, those two were the younger Zuckers and as children Stiles, Josh and myself would run away from the younger two boys and shoot at them with BB guns. We weren't very nice to the younger Zuckers, and crouching over their now dead, mangled body's left a pit so deep and so dark in my stomach that I felt as if it would swallow me whole and I would never find myself able to break back to the surface. It was unbelievable that the boys I'd grown up around where laying in front of me in such a horrible state, it hurt to see their glassy eyes looking up at the ceiling. I felt guilty for my part in what had been bullying when we were just kids. With trembling hands, I reached for the notebook and pen in my back pocket and began making my notes. I had written the first letter before the pen trailed off in an unplanned line down the page, and then I felt a hand firmly grip my shoulder from behind. It was Yeo. The young officer crouched down with me, sitting on the balls of his feet while I sunk to my knees.

"I know it's hard man, I was a part of it all when we were kids too," Yeo sighed as he swept his dark hair from his eyes. "Momma and Papa, didn't like me hanging out with the Zucker's so I stayed away from them, even when you and Josh and Stiles were giving them a hard time in elementary school I just kept my head down and walked away,"

"Yeo," I breathed, my voice choking up slightly, "You were always so kind to them, always,"

"Kind? My silence was just as bad as the bullying. I am just as deserving to carry the guilt as you,"

"But Y-" Yeo cut me off, putting his hand on my shoulder again.

"Scott you know I'm right. Alas none of that matters anymore, know we know this was murder we can do our best to put this son of a bitch behind bars. It will feel good to redeem ourselves for the past." With that remark Yeo stood upright and gave me a small encouraging smile before continuing with his job. I thought that maybe with all the tragedy and grief I'd experienced over the years that maybe it would get easier, but now it felt like and endless cycle of doom.

Yeo and I returned to our vehicle after we recorded our notes from the crime scene. Yeo was a good man, he was our age, and very Asian. His parents owned the best Vietnamese restaurant in town, actually it was the only Vietnamese restaurant in town- but it was still good. He was a straight A+ student who rebelled and strayed from college and the restaurant when he dropped out of high school a few years before he was to graduate. He followed his passion in photography, and that lead him to the police force to pursue forensic photography. Pretty grim career choice if you ask me. However he was flawless at his job and it was comforting to have an old friend working by my side. Yeo was filling out more work before we hit the road and got back to the station when I got a phone call from the last person I wanted to talk to while I was feeling this low. I answered the call and cringed when I heard his voice for the first time in years.

"Scott this is urgent, so listen carefully," Mr. McCall answered with such irritable haste. I was taken aback to say the least.

"Dad?"


End file.
